smile for the camera
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: It's all you've got left. / Multiple characters & pairings. Drabble collection.
1. beginning

**a/n: alright, so i have taken on the 30 days of writing: a drabble a day challenge over on tumblr. each day for the next thirty days, i'm going to try to write, well, a drabble a day using the thirty prompts given, and i'm focusing on making them glee drabbles. i may start an original drabble collection over on my fictionpress account, but perhaps not, so don't get your hopes up. and that's all i have to say. thanks for reading, leave a review if you can! :)**

**beginning**

rachel berry

It's a bit of a blur how she got here, standing in the street, dressed in hot pink and toting a suitcase around.

She always knew she was going to end up here, the city of dreams – from the moment her dads bought her those tap shoes and an _Annie_ CD, her path was paved, straight out of Lima and off to bigger, better things.

She's just not entirely sure how it happened. Why it happened like this.

Because a few hours ago she was getting _married_, with her dress all ironed and pressed waiting for her at the chapel and Finn by her side with those random freckles on his neck and that goofy grin of his that always makes her insides bubble up. A few hours ago she was going to be _Mrs. Rachel Barbra Hudson_, and now she's staring up at the skyscrapers and people are shoving past her without batting an eye.

And she's not entirely sure what she's feeling right now, or what she should be feeling, because every emotion is fighting for attention inside her head – because she's here in _New York City_ with her NYADA letter tucked securely in her jacket pocket, but Finn's back in Lima still wearing his suit and Kurt's there too with nothing more than an over-gelled boyfriend and a rejection letter and it makes Rachel's heart seize up and she's not sure whether to be happy or sad or angry or _what_.

And then she's thinking about Quinn – she's not sure why she does, but she just _does_, okay – and she frantically feels inside her other pocket for the metropass Quinn gave her and when her fingers find it she clutches it like a lifeline. In a way it is, because of all her friends Quinn will be the closest and Rachel will definitely take advantage of that as often as possible. New York can be lonely.

She tilts her head up, lets the soft glow of the sun rest on her skin, and she breathes. And she smiles. It's sad and it's twisted, but it's a smile. It's a start. A beginning.

She bites her bottom lip and drags her suitcase along behind her.


	2. accusation

**accusation**

sebastian/blaine

Sebastian's glaring at him with cold, hard accusation in his eyes and Blaine knows he's fucked.

"Leave him." he mouths, because he's too weak to talk. Blaine stares.

"I can't."

Sebastian fixes him with a hateful look, except there's no hate behind it at all – only disappointment, only frustration.

"You're so stupid." he growls, and then he's coming at Blaine with his fists curling and suddenly their lips are on each other's faces and everything is so many different colors that it makes Blaine's head hurt. Then they're falling and crashing and Blaine can only think about Kurt and how this is going to hurt him.

"You kiss like a girl, killer." Sebastian whispers breathily against his ear, and Blaine's eyes roll backwards and he forgets there ever was a Kurt.


	3. restless

**restless**

puck/quinn

She's in his head and he can't sleep.

He can see her clearly, and it's killing him. He can see the blonde hair and the green eyes (shit, they're so green) and he can see the parted lips that curl up as they whisper his name with the kind of poisonous voice that sends chills up his spine.

He can feel her scratching at his skin, carving words into his flesh – her name, his name, words of love and words of hatred. He can feel her breath, hot and fiery and delicious. He can feel her in all the ways she's let him feel her, and the few she hasn't.

He can feel her heartbeat against his after they're done and she falls asleep (or passes out drunk), a rhythmic thudding pattern that makes his own heart speed up. He can feel her heart in his hands, heavy and torn, and there's blood spilling through his fingertips all the way down to his feet in a puddle. He can feel her eyes on him and her hands on him, and he can feel her feel him too.

He tosses and he turns and he's restless because the only thing that he can think about is her and it's no use because the era of Puck and Quinn was over even before it began.


	4. snowflake

**snowflake**

puck/kurt

He's like a snowflake.

A super-gay, flamboyant, effeminate snowflake, but still a snowflake.

Because Kurt Hummel is one in a million – no, one in a _billion_ – fuck, one in a _zillion_ – and there is no one who can quite match up.

He can give the snarkiest of comebacks and always has something to say about everything, especially things concerning musicals and fashion. He sings like a girl when he wants to, and sultrily deep when he doesn't, and he can dance in ways that make Puck's brain melt out of his ears (because it makes him think hard about things he shouldn't). He's basically the whole package, and there's never been someone like him – at least that Puck's known.

And he's personally one snowflake Puck would love to catch on his tongue.


	5. haze

**haze**

quinn fabray

She doesn't know what to do.

Everything's swirling around her head. She can't see through the smoke, can't breathe through it. It's a gray haze and she's trapped. All she can hear is the soft thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

_You chose this_, she tells herself. She chose the smoky lungs and the bubblegum pink hair. Just like she chose Puck. Just like she chose every bad thing.


End file.
